But Then my Homework Was Never Quite Like This
by ManicPixieFanGirl
Summary: Teacher!Klaine.  "Large, hazel eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in curiousity. Kurt flushed under the unrelenting stare as students filled the classroom. "Good morning, class, I'm Mr. Anderson." "
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the product of reading wayyy too much Teacher!Klaine fanfiction, and unabashedly loving it! This would never be published if AngelIsIgniReluctant hadn't begged me to and bribed me with cookies! Soooo.. If you like it, thank her by reading her stuff and spamming her inbox with reviews! :)

Anyway, here's Chapter one! Hope it was worth the cookies.

**-MEOW-**

Kurt Hummel strutted into his last period English class the first day back from Christmas break, and stopped dead. A new teacher? What the hell? Why hadn't anyone told him?

A man, no older than twenty-five, sat hunched over papers at a mahogany desk. Kurt stood in the doorway staring until the bell rang, making him jump. He quickly took his seat. The chair squeaked loudly as he slid it forward. The new teacher finally noticed the other person in the room, looking up. It was then that Kurt saw the man's eyes; large, hazel eyes that widened in surprise, then narrowed in curiousity. Kurt flushed under the unrelenting stare as students filled the classroom. "Good morning, class, I'm Mr. Anderson."

**-MEOW-**

School, for Kurt, had always been easy, a breeze, really. These days, however, he was barely paying attention, every class bored him now, even French. He never spoke if he didn't have to, never volunteered an answer. Except in English. From his first day back, Kurt had been obsessed with learning EVERYTHING there was to know about English. He'd always been competitive, and now, being taught by Mr. Anderson, he just wanted to win. To know something about English that the teacher didn't, he wanted to beat Mr. Anderson.

Now, Mr. Anderson was not oblivious to this, or anything Kurt did, to be honest. No, in fact, Kurt fascinated him to no end.

The whole class would watch in awe as Kurt asked a question intended to spark a debate, and Mr. Anderson always took the bait. These debates usually lasted the last 20 minutes of the class, and were so frequent that, after two weeks, Mr. Anderson began planning his lectures to accommodate them.

One day, a Friday in February, Kurt and Mr. Anderson got so heated in their debate that the bell was unheard. Mr. Anderson was standing in the middle of the classroom, two desks ahead of Kurt's. Kurt had risen out of his seat and was gesturing wildly with his hands. They weren't usually this intense, and the rest of the class filed out quickly.

"Yes," Mr. Anderson said frustratedly, "But if it wasn't censored, small children would have access to that kind of language,"

"Who are you to say my kids can't read _Huck Finn_ if I want them to?" Kurt slammed his fist down on the desk for emphasis.

Neither said anything as they glared, now less then a foot apart. After a few minutes' time, Mr. Anderson sighed and looked down, rubbing a palm over his face. "Sorry, Kurt. I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree," He shrugged.

Kurt did a mental happy dance. It wasn't technically a win, but he hadn't lost either.

Then something happened that neither Kurt nor Mr. Anderson saw coming. "Okay, Mr. An-"

"Blaine." Kurt gaped at his teacher's back, which had been walking toward his desk. "Uh, Okay, Mist- Blaine." The name tasted odd on his tongue. "Have a good weekend,"

Blaine smiled, "You too, Kurt,"

**-MEOW-**

As Kurt got into his Navigator, his heart was pounding. "Teacher, teacher, teacher," he chanted in a whisper.

In the same second, Blaine had his head in his hands as he sat at his desk, _nice job, Anderson, _he thought , groaning, _Student, student, student..._

**-MEOW-**

Blaine hadn't been teaching long, but he'd never run across a student like Kurt. It seemed to be Kurt's mission to prove he was smarter than Blaine. Frustrated, amused, and usually a tad flustered, Blaine won most of their arguments debates. But, as smart as Blaine was, Kurt was stubborn.

Blaine always knew when it was coming, when Kurt had found something to question, something to debate. It was his eyes. Kurt's blue-green eyes were magnificent. In Blaine's, purely unbiased, opinion. But When Kurt zoned in on his argument, his eyes sparkled. Shined. And Blaine noticed. Always.

When Kurt got excited, he flushed, his cheek grew rosy, his eyes widened, and Blaine had to remind himself again. _Student. Teacher. Wrong._ But despite his, now daily, reminders, Blaine found himself thinking about Kurt, dreaming, even. Waking up on Friday with sticky pajamas was the last straw for Blaine. He decided Kurt was going to transfer classes. It wasn't fair to anyone, the way Blaine felt about him.

**-MEOW-**

Kurt was always the first one in class, so that Friday, Blaine waited for his student to be seated before he stood up and strode to his side. He cleared his throat and Kurt glanced up, "Yes Blaine?" Blaine froze. He'd forgotten about their conversation last week. Regathering himself, his voice broke slightly, "S-see me after class, ok?" Kurt's eyes held confusion and... hurt? He nodded slowly, "Okay, Miste- Blaine," Kurt drew out his name, now unsure. Blaine turned away and frowned at his desk as students filled the classroom. He didn't **want** to hurt Kurt, but he knew he would. _Damn it._

**-MEOW-**

At the end of class, Kurt closed the door and sat in front of his teacher's desk. He was confused, but the look on Blaine's face told him this was important. . . and probably bad. "Kurt," Blaine started, licking his, now dry, lips. Opening his mouth once more, the words he'd practice died on his lips. Kurt look hurt and so confused, and Blaine just. . . Couldn't. Nevertheless, he spoke. "Kurt, how old are you?"

_What the hell, Anderson? _Kurt's confusion grew, but the hurt dropped away quickly. "I turned 17 on November 8th. Why?" Kurt's nose crinkled and his eyebrows furrowed. Blaine licked his lips again, and Kurt hoped Blaine had missed how closely he'd watched the motion. "Kurt," he repeated, searching for anything in Kurt's eyes. "Blaine." His name again. _God, why do I like that so much? _

Swallowing, Blaine continued, "Do you, um, argu- debate, with _all_ of your teachers like that?"

_Oh, God. _Kurt's throat was tight with embarrassment. _I'm in **trouble! **_Kurt was stuttering again, something he hadn't done since middle school. "N-not u-u-usually, no," "Oh." Kurt didn't miss the realization in Blaine's eyes. _He knows._ And Blaine did know. He now understood the competitiveness, the barely-visible looks. Kurt wanted him, too. _Well, damn._

So, yes, Kurt saw realization in Blaine's eyes, and for a split-second, that was the most horrifying experience that had ever plagued him. But then Kurt saw something else, something that was definitely not rejection. Was it. . . Retaliation? Lust?

_Oh._

**-MEOW-**

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, as innocently as possible, given his flushed, lust-filled state. Blaine cleared his throat. "Y-yes, Kurt?"

"Do you... **Debate **with all of your," Kurt, who had moved forward, a hand now resting on Blaine's desk, leaned in so his face was an inch away from Blaine's, "students. . . Like that?" Kurt's head was cocked to the side, eyes narrowed slightly. A challenge. "No,"

"And why is that, do you suppose?" Where this courage came from, who knew, but Kurt wasn't about to let it go to waste.

Blaine was having trouble breathing with his student, his _beautiful, sexy, smart, witty, _student so close to him. "I d-don't know," Kurt chuckled somewhat menacingly. "Oh, I think you do. I think it's because. You. **Want **me." Kurt growled the "Want" and Blaine whimpered. He actually _whimpered_.

Kurt smirked. _Thought so._

Kurt backed off, gathering his messenger bag, and strutted toward the door. As he crossed the threshold he looked back over his right shoulder at Blaine. "Have a good weekend," Kurt paused, summoning the last of his courage, "Blaine," He moaned the name, obscenely sexually.

Not being able to properly respond, Blaine laid his face in his hands and groaned, listening to the hard click of Kurt's designer boots in the hallway. At this point, even the dapper gentleman in him was screaming "GET SOME!". He drove home quickly and uncomfortably, hopping in the shower immediately.

**-MEOW-**

A/N: I wasn't sure what to rate this, but it will be M eventually, so I'm just gonna leave it. :)


	2. Apology

I am so sorry to anyone who liked this story. I've been trying to re-write, but the notebook I wrote most of this story in was tragically drowned in a freak accident. This story is, as of now, discontinued until further notice.  
>What I have is stored on my laptop. It is incomplete and ends rather abruptly, but if you want to see it, review this chapter or PM me and I'll get it to you or post it, depending on who cares.<br>I apologize if this chapter updat excited you, I'm a horrible person.  
>Much love,<br>-


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: And here's where the smut comes in! Children avert your eyes. Thanks for your reviews, favorites, and author/story alerts! I never dreamed anyone would A) read this or B) actually like it! I love the love so keep it coming, please! :D

(P.S. Blaine is underlined **Kurt is bolded**)

**-MEOW-**

Standing under the scalding water, Blaine let it rush over his left shoulder, down his stomach. He grabbed the Axe bodywash off the shelf, squeezing a large amount into his hand. He massaged the soap into his shoulder blades, relishing in the relaxing feel.

Over his chest, his fingers splayed, covering every crevice in the slippery suds. Repeatedly, he rubbed down his stomach, every time inching closer and closer to the ache in his groin. He dipped into the dark curls, pulling lightly as he dragged his had up again with a moan.

Slowly as he could manage, he slid hand back down, now gripping the base of his cock. He groaned at the contact. Carefully, Blaine began to move his have up to the tip of his cock.

The thrusts increased quickly, and he began whimpering, eyes squeezed shut. Then Blaine did something he hadn't since highschool. Sucking two fingers into his mouth, he slicked them up quickly. Blaine's flushed jaw clenched as he explored his own entrance, pressing one finger in, in time with his pumps. He pushed another finger in, pushing too soon, and hissed as a tear rolled down his cheek, mixing with the hot shower. He remembered how to crook his fingers into his prostate to lose the pain, so he did. He'd forgotten. "Oh, god!" he yelled, nearly collapsing. He moaned, pushing the fingers in and out , hitting the spot at the same time his other hand dipped into the curly black hairs at the base of his cock.

Blaine hadn't realized what he'd been picturing until Kurt's sharp, determined, lust-blown eyes swam into view. He came in ribbons over his hand and the shower wall, "Kurt!". He both yelled and moaned the name, dragging it out as he collapsed on the shower floor. He was in so deep and he knew it.

Kurt's name still fresh in his mouth, Blaine cleaned himself off, not bothering to towel off as he strutted into his living room to grade papers.

He had to laugh as he picked up Kurt's. _If only they realized. _

Blaine marked it "A" and moved on. Maybe it was biased, but Blaine just **loved** Kurt's style.

**MEOW-**

It was Kurt he thought about that night. His eyes, his hair, his clothes, the way his nose crinkled laughed really hard. Blaine couldn't stop it anymore. Despite the innate wrongness of it all, not only did Blaine want to ram Kurt into his desk, he also wanted to get to know him, to spend time with him outside of school. Blaine Anderson wanted to date a student. That wasn't right, Kurt was more than just a student. No, Blaine Anderson wanted to date Kurt Hummel.

Kurt thought about Blaine all weekend, his eyes his curls, his ties, the way his hands automatically flew to his hair when he got frustrated, only to remember it's gelled. So it was Blaine's name on his lips, Blaine who haunted his dreams with taunting looks and bared chests. Kurt never wanted it to stop. Kurt wanted to date Blaine Anderson. More importantly, Kurt knew how to get him.

**-MEOW-**

**Monday. Last Period.**

Knee-length black boots over white skinny jeans, a mid-thigh tank-top with horizontal stripes, a black belt over the tank top, and a casually tossed thin black scarf, is what Kurt Hummel wore as he strutted into last period. He waltzed past Mr. Anderson's desk and over to his own. He set down his messenger bag and bent over to search inside it for his book, giving Blaine a direct view of his ass.

He heard the gentle sound of writing stop as Blaine took notice, and he smirked. He whipped around- book in hand- landing gracefully in his seat and successfully catching Blaine staring. Blaine blushed bright red- to his ears- as other students filed in, none noticing the slightly altered atmosphere in the classroom.

After class, just when Blaine about to leave, he heard the door shut and the lock click. Kurt walked in between his chair and desk. Pushing up against the desk, Kurt sat on it, crossing his legs directly in front of Blaine, who swallowed. Hard.

Kurt was checking his nails, seemingly ignoring the man in front of him. "So," Kurt started, still pretending to ignore Blaine, "How was your weekend?"

"Good." Blaine wasn't sure how to feel. On the one hand, Blaine desperately wanted to flip Kurt over and bang him into the desk, boots and all- On the other, he was attempting to remember his chant. _Student. Student. Student. _Like that was gonna work with Kurt's 20 mile legs almost _on_ him. "Good, good," Kurt finally looked at him, his glasz eyes suddenly hypnotizing Blaine. Cocking his head to the side, his eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Any. . . Good dreams?" Blaine's groin twitched in remembrance. "Yes." Blaine's voice was small. Kurt had his full attention, and they both knew it. "Oh?" Kurt's eyes widened in mock surprise when he nodded. "Me too." Kurt used the leg on top to itch his right calf absentmindedly, sliding up and down slowly. Blaine cleared his throat, eyes now locking on that leg. "About anyone in particular?"

Kurt chuckled. "I think you probably know the answer to that. You are a teacher, after all, Mr. Anderson." His name was what did it. He didn't know why, but his name, coming from those succulent pink lips was his undoing.

He pushed up as Kurt's legs uncrossed and slid in between them, crashing into a desperate kiss.

It wasn't sweet or romantic, just teeth and tongue as they explored their own personal promised land.

Blaine was the first to break it, his mouth moving to whisper in Kurt's ear, "Not here.". The warm breath on his neck made Kurt shiver.

Before Blaine realized what was happening, Kurt's hand had dug into his back pocket, retrieving Blaine's cell phone. Kurt tapped into his phone number and then texted himself. "There," Kurt said, hopping off the desk and exiting, messenger bag in tow. "Text me, Blaine."

Blaine sat back down, hanging his head between his knees. Student.. He reminded himself for the thousandth time. It didn't work this time, either, as he licked the tasted of Kurt from his lips. Coffee, he thought of the new taste, mocha, hairspray, and. . . Kurt.

**-MEOW-**

Did you get home safely?

**Yes.**

K. So what's up?  
>Kurt thought for a moment, considering how to reply. He eventually decided to go with the truth.<p>

**Me.**

_Oh, **oh. **Okay._

Are you alone?

**Yes. **Kurt sat there, debating whether to ask or not, when his phone buzzed.

Wanna come over?

**-MEOW-**

A/N: Lol Unintentional cliffhanger, FTW... It seems there were more people who cared than I anticipated, so I'll do my best to continue. It'll be slow-going, so don't hate me!


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